


Castle of Glass

by Aeacus



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Headcanon turned story, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 03:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 9,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeacus/pseuds/Aeacus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Dirk and Bro were more similar than we think? Do you really think AR is a unique concept to a single universe?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bec is dead. We defeated him. Still not sure how that happened and I was fucking there. But hey, I'm not complaining. There is a burnt mark on the ground from where he burnt up in a rush of green demon fire. His trophies are left. And that thought just made me sick. John is over there picking them up. His dad's hat, Rose's mom's scarf, and Bro's... glasses.

I cradle the shitty anime glasses in my hands. They are a bit heavier than I expected for a bit of tinted plastic. This sounds really fucking sentimental and sappy, but right now I am too tired to give a fuck, I just... I just want to look through them like my brother did. I slip mine off and put the angles on. They are almost the same darkness as mine but a little bluer in-

Dave. 

HOLY FUCK! I fling the glasses off my face and then dive after them so they don't get hurt by the fall. I think I might have shouted out loud too because now everyone is looking at me. I look over at Dirk and he has an odd expression as I put Bro's glasses back on.

Dave.

Dave?

Sorry.

Probably wasn't expecting that.

Guess he/I didn't tell you.

The text just scrolls across and up the lenses to make room for the next line.

Sorry about that.

I'm sorry about a lot of things.

I'm sorry about how it went down.

He wasn't expecting that.

He didn't mean to die.

"Bro?"

Oh good.

My audio feature didn't get broken.

The glasses took a hit during the fight and then you weren't saying anything.

Yea, I'm a version of him.

Obviously of the digital kind instead of the physical bodily kind.

But still him.

"Like Dirk's?"

I thought he/I didn't tell you about this.

You're frowning.

I'm missing something.

I glance over at Dirk who is slowly coming to the same realization as I am. Of course Bro would have had a digital self. His post scratch self had the exact hobbies that he had so why wouldn't Bro have dabbled in cloning his own brain into his glasses. It seems so obvious in retrospection.

Who's the good looking fellow over there?

He looks like me.

"That's Dirk."

Huh.

He has my name.

"He's Bro's- your post scratch self. He had me for his Bro."

Really?

And he's still alive.

A miracle.

"It's a miracle I survived childhood."

Ouch.

Harsh.

Didn't I teach you to respect your elders.

"Nope. You taught me to respect the ones who could beat your ass into the rooftop with shitty swords and a fucking evil puppet. And as a pair of glasses, you can't do that."

Touche`.

And Cal wasn't evil.

"Bullshit."

Not when I had him.

He helped raise your ass.

"Exactly why I'm surprised I even got to see age five."

"Dave?" I look beyond the screen on the lens and see John's worried face peering at me. "Are you okay?" I'll give him credit. I suppose I do look like I am talking to myself. Only Dirk would understand on his own.

"Yea, I'm okay. Peachy keen. Totally not talking to myself. I'm talking with Bro."

John's face scrunches down even farther into a frown. "Your Bro is dead, Dave," he tries to explain gently. Oh jegus, I really do sound as if I lost it.

"Dude, you know AR? Lives in Dirk's glasses?" John nods. "It was built by Dirk. Dirk is my Bro reincarnate. Is it that much of a jump to assume that Bro did the same thing?"

I give him a moment to process and then understanding swamps John's face. "Oh, oh, OH!"

"Yea, so... I'm going to catch up with him. Do me a favor and explain my bout of insanity to the rest of the group. Dirk will help you with the technical jargon."

There is a soft chime and I refocus on the screen.

He's cute.

"Pervert."

"What?"

"Not you, John. Just... Just go."

John complies with my request with a strange expression on his face. I sigh and shake my head. Sinking down against a nearby wall I refocus on the one sided digital conversation floating in front of my eyes.

He's cute.

I don't deny it.

Took you forever to catch onto the smuppets.

I thought you were nonsexual for a long time.

Turns out you were just stupid.

"I like to think naive."

Don't sugar coat it.

"Or I was just turning a blind eye to stuff that would have had CPS knocking at our door if I breathed a word of it to anyone. I mean, you ran a fucking porn site from our living room, had cherry bombs in the ice machine, fireworks in the sink, and fought me on a roof without railings."

It wasn't that bad.

"In the Houston summers. Fuck you it wasn't that bad."

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

You used the skills I gave you in the game.

"You weren't there. You didn't see what I did."

I saw.

I was watching.

And Dave told me.

"Davesprite?"

Dave.

He's just as much Dave as you are.

"Yea. Yea, I guess he was."

Was.

What the fuck do you mean was?

"The sprites did something to help us win the fight. They glitched or something. They are gone. He's gone."

Fuck.

Poor kid.

He fought with me.

"I know. He told me." I lean my head back against the wall in silent contemplation. I used that three year hiatus to get over Bro's death but here I am talking with him again. I can almost feel the old wounds opening again.

I really didn't mean to die.

"I know. Bec prototyped with Jade's kernel sprite because of troll interference and Jack Noir got turned into demon dog Bec Noir."

Troll?

"Aliens. Our gods actually. Their session created our universe."

Those gray skinned candy horned kids are our gods?

"Yea, ironic, isn't it?"

I think the multiverse just topped my irony.

"You know, I am imagining you standing there with your mouth hanging open in disbelief, smuppet dangling from one hand and unbreakable katana in the other." Something starts blurring my vision. I do my best to blink it away, and I get it just enough to read the next few lines.

I'm sorry Dave.

I really am.

I wish I was there.

I wish I could fist bump you.

Tell you that you make me proud.

And that does it. My faces starts leaking. I knew he was proud of me from the way he looked at me, tilting his head a certain way, or the way he offered his hand after owning my ass in a rooftop strife. But it was always in subtle ways, small ways, just enough that made me want more. He never said it out loud to me.

"I-I-I miss y-you," I sobbed.

I know.

But you did so well.

You were so strong little man.

I saw your fight with Bec Noir.

It was incredible.

All you kids fought so well.

I'm proud of you all.

Especially you Dave.

You had it rough.

Doing the time thing.

Using Doomed Daves like that.

Shit.

I don't know if I could have done that.

You are such a hero little bro.

"I'm not a hero."

Why do you say that?

"I couldn't save you. What sort of hero let's someone they love die?"

Plenty.

"Yea right," I scoffed.

Dude.

Think back to all of those spandex superheroes in comics.

Especially if you go Marvel.

But even DC.

Even Superman let some people die.

>It's stupid to save everyone.

Then there is no good angst for the story to chew on.

You are as much of a hero as anyone.

The four of you more so.

Because you fucking saved the multiverse.

For real.

That's beyond heroic in my book.

"We aren't done though."

What.

"Yea."

But Bec Noir was the end boss.

He even did the cliche multiple form thing final bosses do.

"He is the end boss. For our session. We still have to beat the Alpha session and then we have to beat the game. The real game."

Fuck.

God damn.

Just god damn.

"Yea. One demon hell spawn dog down. Two more bitch nasties next. Starting with Betty Crocker."

The fuck.

"Otherwise known as the Batterwitch or the Condesce or Empress of the Trolls."

Okay.

Doesn't sound that bad.

"She took out Rose's and my Alpha versions, took over the world, and killed off all humans except Dirk and Roxy who lived only because of being delivered on meteors instead of in hospitals. Oh, and she has an entire army."

Fuck.

"Yep."

You'll win eventually.

I know you guys can do it.

Right now though.

You need to go to your friends and celebrate this win.

Well.

Rest first then celebrate.

I'll be right here.

We'll talk later okay?


	2. Chapter 2

"'kay." I slip the glasses off of my face and tuck them into my neckline so that he can still see everything. I put the aviators on my face and go over to where everyone is waiting. John looks over to me and I give him a nod to signify that I'm all right. I'm not. But there isn't anything he can do about it. Instead I go stand over by Dirk.

"Sup."

"Sup. So, like AR?"

"Yea. He’s in there. Chilling in the shades like he’s the prince of his plastic castle. Though I guess it’s not all plastic if he needs the wires and chips and shit especially to get the text up on the screen. Y’all are freaks at this computer shit. I don’t even understand how you two could get a living brain’s worth of circuitry down the size of glasses."

"Complicated."

"Yea, no shit Sherlock. I’m just going to suspend my disbelief and call it magic."

"I could build him something."

"I'll ask him later."

"'kay."

"Is everyone ready?" Jade calls out. Everyone nods and in a flash of light we are transported off of the meteor and back onto the ship. We land in the cafeteria which is good because of the space we'll need to care for the wounded and there is food here. And food is necessary according to my now vocal stomach. Those who can walk are divided up into medics and chefs. I'm a medic with my experience gathered from patching myself up from strifes with Bro. I can almost hear a 'I told you so' coming from the glasses but they stay silent. Once everyone is patched up enough that they aren't bleeding on any tables and everyone is fed with sandwiches and left over cake (rest your soul, Nannasprite), we all retire to our rooms.

I set both pair of shades on the desk and take a quick shower in the connected bathroom, washing the grime of battle and mock hospital ward off of my skin. I can feel fatigue creeping in but it's not there just yet and I'd rather not leap into horrorterror sponsored dream bubbles any sooner than I have to. After drying myself off, I pick up my usual, comfortable record shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and Bro's shades. Then I curl up in the bed, pulling the sheets around me in a very trollian nest-like structure.

Doing okay there little bro?

"What do you think?"

I think you'll be able to handle it.

It's the Strider way.

We handle anything.

"Except unbreakable katanas to the chest."

Okay.

I'll give you that one.

"Dirk uses katanas too. He reminds me a lot of you."

I could see that.

He looks like I did as a teenager.

Probably a little younger than when you showed up.

"He's sixteen."

Sounds about right.

Though people called me terse.

What's up with him?

It's like his words are precious water.

And he's in a desert going on ten years.

"Fifteen."

Huh?

"Remember the part where I said Dirk and Roxy were the only ones left alive? They were literally the only humans on earth. And they didn't even live together. He didn't have much chance at conversation outside of instant messaging."

Huh.

I suppose he's doing well then.

"Yea. He's pretty cool. Does the whole irony thing too."

Cool.

Who's AR?

"His autoresponder. Like you. Made an AI from a captcha of his brain about four years ago. He diverged from Dirk though." I paused to think that over. "You don't feel like you've diverged from..." How do I phrase that. 'The real you,' 'the other you,' 'the dead you.'

He/I kept myself updated pretty often.

And it's not like I could wander off.

Didn't have anyone else to talk to either.

I was the safety net for him/me.

I am the black box that records the pilot's last words.

Which are statistically oh shit.

"What were his? Yours? Fuck this multiple persons shit. I thought I had it handle between my time shenanigans and Dirk's splintering. Alpha Dirk not you Dirk."

Chill.

Trust me.

It's weird enough that he is dead and I'm still here.

But I.

I have his last words.

Saved as an audio file.

They are to you.

If you got a laptop and a plug.

I can play it for you.

I freeze up. Do I actually want to hear that? The last words, the last breath of my Bro. I could save him which basically means that I killed him right? I let him die. Might of well had my hand on the handle of the sword that plunged into the white polo shirt.

Incessant pinging brought me back to the screen.

Dave.

Dave.

Dave.

Dave.

Please calm down.

Don't freak.

It's not cool.

"I'm not freaking."

Yea.

You are the epitome of cool.

I can read the sarcasm in the digital words.

Your poker face is pretty good but I can always read it.

You don't have to listen to it.

Not now at least.

I have it saved.

Just think about it.

You don't have to.

Especially not right now.

Honestly.

You look like shit right now.

And need your sleep.

I'll be right here.

We'll talk later okay?

I nod numbly, softly cognizant of the fatigue threatening to swamp me. "Good night." I put him next to my shades and curl back up in the pile of sheets.


	3. Chapter 3

I wake up screaming the next morning my throat raw. When I finally calm myself I uncurl my fists from the sheets and run a hand through my hair, pulling the sweaty strands off my forehead. I hate this. I hate this so much.

There is a soft ping from the desk. I numbly reach over and pick up my shades. As soon as I get them on my face, I realize my mistake and switch glasses.

Dave.

Are you okay?

You are breaking my heart little man.

Please wake up.

I'm sorry.

"Hey." My voice is gravelly and rough.

Are you okay?

"Yea. Fine." Of course I'm fine. It's not like I was just screaming my head off.

You were screaming.

"No more dream self. Got dream bubbles now. Tended to by the horrorterrors. Pleasant guys." I yawn and stretch. "Breaking your heart, huh? That's a new line for you."

Dave.

I care about you.

As your big bro.

I'm supposed to be there for you.

And protect you.

In here.

I can't do anything but listen.

"Don't know what you could do if you were here. We tried the roommate thing to help with the nightmares. Didn't work. Nothing wakes us until the end of the dream. So it was just endless hours of screaming if you were unlucky enough to be awake."

Fuck.

Fuck this game.

"Yea, our sentiments exactly. Okay, shower time."

Okay.

I'll be right here.

We'll talk later okay?

"Yea."


	4. Chapter 4

After the shower I head to the cafeteria for what could possibly pass for breakfast. Bro is securely tucked at the front of my shirt. A couple people had already gathered and were attempting to sludge that is very loosely known as coffee. Almost everyone has bags under their eyes that rival's Karkat's. I scrounge up some toast and jelly and join the group at the table. There isn't much conversation. Everyone had nightmares last night. After we've eaten or at least push the food around for long enough, our co-palhonchos let us know that today will be for rest but then we have to start training again for the next battle. We'll be returning to Alpha Earth in about a week. Then we go after the Condesce. No one even grumbles as we accept our orders. I am the first to stand and leave. I don't have a particular destination in mind. I simply need to move. I walk down the dark corridors and try to lose myself in the maze that is the lab. Fourteen minutes and thirty seconds later I hear a ping coming from Bro. I swap out the shades, but never stop walking.

Going anywhere?

"No."

Then you should rest.

"Right. I should try to get some shut eye while the tentacle horrors can molest me some more. How about no."

You are exhausted.

Everyone is.

You don't have to sleep.

But walking aimlessly isn't helping.

"Really? Cause it feels like it is. Just one foot in front of the other. If I try hard enough I can get the footsteps the hide the ticking that goes on in my brain."

Ticking?

"Yea, Hero of Time shit. I am a walking clock now. I can measure time, I can control time, I can feel time, I am time. I am made of time. Not to be confused with Aradia who is the Maid of Time."

Heh cute.

I bet your internal metronome would help your music.

Do you have any equipment here?

"Yea. Some. Dirk and I put some together between our stashes and alchemizing the rest. English was able to fit all the game's machines in his sylladex."

Impressive.

Let's go check this shit out.

I wanna see if it's any good.

"Any good? You doubt my tastes? And how can you doubt Dirk's tastes? He is you so he has your tastes."

Not my experience though.

Come on.

Go.

"Fine, fine. Get off my dick."

Dude.

You are my little bro.

And you call me the pervert.

"Shut up." I retrace my steps to the proposed music room. Our setup is pretty badass. And I can almost hear the whistle of appreciation as it comes into view of the glasses.

Okay.

Pretty sweet.

I'll give credit where credit is due.

Now make some sick music.

I'll be right here.

We'll talk later okay.


	5. Chapter 5

I shrug. I can't refuse a dead guy's request. I step up to the equipment and start setting up the beats. The rhythm in my head does help as I slide the measures against each other to lay down good ground work. When I am satisfied with what I got, I start laying down tracks. Soon I get lost in the beats, in the swing and sway of the music. The music blends with the slipping of time in my head. I feel my muscles relax as I manipulate the board and spin the tables. I can feel the tension release its grip on me. I lose track of time. Not really. It's more that I don't care about tracking it anymore.

A sense of peace and rest come over me. I feel better than I have the entire game. Eventually I let the music trail off and its just the beats until eventually I turn that off.

That was some nice shit there kid.

"Thanks."

How do you feel?

"Better. How'd you know that would work?"

Do you know how many times you would pass out on my futon.

Listening to me practice for my gigs.

"Yea I guess. I always ended up on the floor though."

Hey.

That was my bed.

Not yours.

Brat.

"See I knew that 'You're breaking my heart' statement was a little weird. You don't have a heart."

I would try to wake you up.

But you would just keep sleeping.

Slept through the night on the floor too.

"You could have picked me up and put me to bed."

Got you to a smuppet pile once.

"What."

Got pics too.

Such a cute little guy.

Cuddled up with all your felt pals.

"Oh gog, I'm going to be sick."

Haha.

"Dude. No. Oh jegus fuck. Fuck you Bro. Fuck you for being such a creepy fucker."

Hey.

It brought in the money.

It's how I could stay with your ass.

I worked at home.

Kept you from crawling out the window.

Or chewing on the wires.

Or playing the the really sharp weapons.

One hand on baby Dave.

The other played webmaster for a unique kink.

It worked out.

By the time you needed anything.

I had plenty of dough to get you it.

Computer, phone, your own music equipment, camera, film.

Anything.

"Yea I guess."

You guess.

You ungrateful little bastard.

I wish I could strife you just to knock you on your ass.

"So do I." I didn't mean for it to come out so bitter, but I guess I am not over his death as much as I thought I was. I take off the shades without looking for a response though I hear three soft pings. I put on my usual aviators. I do feel better now from the music, but there is still that core of emotions curled up deep inside me that keeps me on the edge. I go stalk the halls again.


	6. Chapter 6

I'm back in my room again the next time I feel like talking to anyone again. When I slide the pointy shades on again, I find the last three messages waiting for me.

Shit.

I'll be right here.

We'll talk later okay.

"You know, you've said more to me dead than you have since my tenth birthday."

I said plenty.

"You implied plenty. All I had to work with were subtle glances, shifts in posture, cryptic notes, differing volumes of smuppet ass, severity of strifes, etc. I had to study and experiment to figure it all out. I had a fucking cheat sheet to keep up with it."

I know I found it and would correct it from time to time.

"Thought so. But anyways, it was always implicit, never explicit."

Did you need it?

"No. But it would have been nice. And it's not like you couldn't. You do plenty of talking now."

Kinda hard to communicate otherwise.

I am only a pair of shades.

"Would you want a body?"

You didn't keep it did you?

"You're old one? No. Ew. Gross. Though it would go well with the rest of my collection. Should still be on LOHAC somewhere." I shake my head. "Off track. Dirk builds robots and could build you a new body."

Huh.

Nah.

I'll pass.

"'kay. Any particular reason or just more undecipherable Bro bullshit?"

Already lived once.

Plus you guys don't have time for that.

The shouty troll and the cute dork said one week.

No way he could build one for me and train for the next boss.

"Impressive. In one sentence you insulted both your clone self's multitasking abilities and my time travelling skills. I could personally give him enough time and he's been building robots since he was five at least. He built the sentient robots who raised him. I think he could build you a chassis. Already said he would."

Answer's still no.

"Damnit Bro. I'm offering you a way to come back."

Yea.

I know.

But that's the thing though.

My time has already passed.

His time has already passed.

I'm not him.

I'm just data in a pair of shades.

I don't want to come back.

"But I do," I say softly.

Shit kid.

You can't keep pulling that.

"I think I am allowed to mourn for a lost guardian figure."

It's been three years.

"Fine. I did grieve. I then had to play a stupid game. Then I got to come to terms with all this shit while I was trapped on a meteor with a pseudo psychologist. Then I met Dirk. The not-Bro clone from another universe. That one threw me for a loop. The rest of the Alphas didn't screw with me as much he did. But I got over that. We came to terms that he wasn't my Bro and I wasn't his. It was all good even as we faced Bec Noir. Bec Blanc helped a great deal. Losing the sprites was rough because like holy shit that was me. Me from a different timeline but still fucking me. Davesprite and the rest of them are now permanently dead like you were supposed to be." I swallow hard. I have avoided thinking about Davesprite because we were in the middle of the fight. Shit.

"Then you had to show back up. You and your stupid shades. You in your fucking stupid anime ironic shades." Then suddenly I can't breath. Something is in my throat. I gasped around the sobs that are not mine. My eyes are burning as I force the liquid that is definitely not tears to stay off of my cheeks. "I'm not used to talking to the dead. That Megido's deal. Not mine. I'm not supposed to talk to the dead. I don't want you dead. I want you alive. Either be alive or be dead but this digital memorial to yourself is screwing with me. It's fucking with all that I already had settled. So give me some fucking time!" I scream at the shades. My fists are clenched in rage. My face is wet and I can't see anything.

I hear two pings and I rip the shades off of my face. I am tempted to throw them across the room. That wouldn't fix anything. I'd just be killing him again. I move to the desk and set them down, catching the last two messages on the screen before turning away.

I'll be right here.

We'll talk later okay?


	7. Chapter 7

I don't touch the shades the next day. Instead I find John and hang out with him. He shows me some cool tricks he's working on with his windy powers. He's testing them out on Karkat which is amusing as fuck. I get some strifing in with some of the trolls and humans. I avoid Dirk though. Don't really want to talk to any Striders. Not even myself at this point. When the Seers call everyone together to strategize about the upcoming battle, I lean up against the wall and lose myself to the ticking in my head. I don't particularly have to listen because Time players work fairly instinctively and Rose will make sure I catch anything actually important.

I find John after the meeting and tell him about how the music helped me calm down and that maybe he should try it with his piano. He just laughs and tells me that he figured out that flying helps him. He even sleeps in the air now. The freak. But he's happy that I found something that worked for me.

No one brings up the pair of shades in my room.

I don't touch them when I finally stumble back to my room. I simply strip and head to the shower, almost falling asleep on my feet in there. I manage to get to the bed before passing the fuck out.

Morning.

"Hey."

How's the training going?

"Pretty good. Rose and Terezi have come up with some maneuvers that will apparently be effective against Betty's drones. We'll have to infiltrate her dreadnought and fight off an army and not die because respawns are limited to stupid deaths but at a point I'm pretty sure one last stupid death will become Just. The game will finally throw its hands up in the air and say fuck it, this one is too stupid to try again. Not even going to give it the usual ten death bonus power. Just gonna put it out of its misery. And actually that only applies to those with the fancy pajamas. The trolls are shit out of luck."

Storming the castle.

Doesn't sound like the best approach.

Especially for a bunch of kids.

"Yea. But it's the best we have. We got the best and brightest minds working on it."

I hope you aren't talking about your self.

I could help.

"Already got Dirk on it. And he's like a fucking genius. He got all of the Alpha's into the game using a fantastically complicated plan that went awry about halfway through and in order t fix it, he had to perform self decapitation with a sendificator."

Ballsy.

"He has ball of fucking diamond that hang down to his ankles."

So he is my clone.

"Yea. Not sure how much more help you would be."

Dirk is my clone.

We are both geniuses.

And we have different perspectives.

I have experience.

"You have experience invading alien dreadnaughts?"

Not exactly.

But it couldn't hurt.

"I'll ask them."

Thanks.

"Time for breakfast. Wanna come?" I ask, picking up my own shades off the desk.

Sure.

I'll be right here.

We'll talk later okay?


	8. Chapter 8

"Bro wants to help." I decide to approach Rose first about this.

"With?" She looks up from her breakfast and imitation coffee.

"Planning our takeover of the confectionary empire that also happens to dabble is global takeover and genocide. He's like Dirk but with a fresh eye."

"I suppose that could be helpful. How would we communicate?"

"He has a microphone so I guess we could just plug him into a laptop and you guys just keep an eye on the screen for when he has something to say. Dirk could whip out more of the technical details that I can off the top of my head."

"Alright. We have a tactical meeting this afternoon. I'll inform Dirk about the changes."

"Cool." I shrug and make to turn away.

"How are you doing?"

Why does she always go for the questions that I really don't want to answer? "Fine. Fit as a finely tune fiddle. I am ready to be played on the roof by a Jewish father trying to reign in his wayward daughters. In fact, I am such a fine fiddle that it actually works and the daughters never leave his side for as long as they live."

"You've never actually seen that production, have you?" She raises an eyebrow up at me.

"No. Just looked it up on Wikipedia enough so that I could use that metaphor. That's not important though. What is important is that should I be aware of anything that would not make me alright? Gamzee's murder clown impulses aren't contagious are they? I don't have to be ducking around corners waiting for another troll who has gone off the deep end? Or has the stoner come back for another reaping for fresh victims?"

"It's none of that. I was merely curious on how you were handling interactions with Bro's AI." Merely curious, huh? I bet mentally she's poised with a pen in one hand and notebook in the other, ready to psychoanalyze anything that comes out of my mouth.

"Bro and I are cool. Chill as can be. Just catching up on the past six years and stuff."

"He's only been dead for three."

"And?"

"Nevermind. You are obviously going to avoid my questions and be as obtuse as possible." She rolls her eyes at me.

"You are just catching on now, Lalonde? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."

"Unfortunately I don't have time to delve deeper behind your walls of irony, indifference, and convoluted metaphors."

"After the game, I'll give you a free pass at my brain." I turn and leave the cafeteria.

"I'll take you up on that offer," she calls out as I get to the door. All of us make promises to be held up after the game. It's a coping mechanism to remind us that there will be an end to this game. I sound like Rose when I use phrases like 'coping mechanism.'

As I head to the music room I switch glasses, tucking my aviators into the neck of my shirt.

"So it sounds like they'll give you a chance to show your stuff."

Cool.

"Not that I really need to tell you. You were probably listening in the entire time."

Yea.

But it's kinda rude to admit that.

"When do you know anything about manners?"

I know plenty.

I just don't care to follow them most of the time.

Most people don't garner that kind of respect.

Drunken club goers or porn clients aren't very respectable.

They only wanted from me.

And all I wanted from them was control.

At the clubs I controlled the crowds.

My music was the whip and the bass the chains.

With a flick of a finger I could make them bow down to me.

Or rise up and take the streets.

And they kept coming back.

Kept giving me control over their nights.

But I never played the music for them.

That was just a guilty pleasure for me.

Fame is easy to get.

Fortune even easier.

Actually appreciation though.

That's a treasure.

To have talent near equal to yours acknowledge you.

That's respect.

That's why I made music.

The words hang on the screen as the conversation paused. I guess it really isn't a conversation as I'm not adding any dialog. I wonder briefly about how Bro handled these conversations. Did he actually talk out loud or did he let his digital self ramble on like this, putting words to his unspoken thoughts. Would it considered talking to yourself if the other you was an actual entity and not just your own mind?

Too bad the world ended before I could get you into the shows.

I wanted to show you want I'm talking about now.

But taking a thirteen year old kid to clubs.

Would have called CPS faster than you could say smuppet.

"I bet. Maybe you can help me out with that after the game."

Sure.

Why not.

We arrive at the music room and I make my way over to the equipment.

Sample me a bit more of what you got.

I'll give you suggestions.

I'll be right here.

We'll talk later okay?


	9. Chapter 9

I feel better after the music session. Refreshed even. Carefully I shut everything down and put everything away. I consult with Bro about the latest. My timing is now perfect thanks to the incessant metronome in my head. But the pattern could be improved. Bro lays out several versions that are similar to mine but better in subtle ways. He explains the theory behind the edits, how each nuance would affect the crowd in a particular manner. I follow his logic and tuck the wisdom away like gold.

As we are talking I wander up to the roof of the meteor's laboratory buildings. I sit on the edge with my legs swinging out into space and my head tilted up at the sky, leaning back on my arms.

"Do you remember that Fourth of July where you beat my ass so badly I couldn't go to school for a week?"

Yea.

But I patched you up nicely.

"Then made me help you drag the futon up the stairs to the roof. Hurt like balls and jegus that shit was heavy. I didn't think any piece of crap from IKEA could have that much weight."

Stop your belly aching.

I carried most of the weight.

"Didn't feel like it. Maybe because I could barely walk."

Seriously.

All you do is whine.

It was worth it though.

"Yea it was. We had the best seat in the house. I think we had good views for at least ten different firework shows. Then after the amateurs quieted down, you put on our own show."

Heh.

Remember that one explosion that went off too soon?

"Yea, it was awesome. I think it singed my eyebrows."

That wasn't supposed to happen.

A wayward spark set that one off.

Nearly shit my pants over how close it was to you.

"Really? You didn't even flinch. You just kept that smug look on your face like you were the most awesome piece of shit on the planet. And I believed it."

That's called a poker face.

I felt like the most awesome piece of shit on the planet.

The way you were grinning.

Like I was doing something right.

"You did a bunch right. Kept me alive up to the game. Kept me alive during the game."

Your fighting style has changed though.

"Well, two handed swords are a bit different from shitty katanas. Time stepping is also a bit different. That not something that we covered in strifing. I think if I had that, I could have beat you."

You really believe that?

That's funny.

"With it we took out Bec Noir, didn't we? The guy who turned you into a shish kabob."

Keyword there is we.

The group of you took him out.

With help from an equally powered up demon dog.

When I faced him it was just Dave and I.

It'd take the pajama party with you to get you a victory.

"Guess we'll never know. You just keep on with your delusions, old man."

Heh.

I will.

We continue to talk for a while, bantering back and forth until Jade came and found us for the meeting.

"Seems like your services are requested, Bro."

Seems so.

Get to me to Dirk so he can get me set up.

I'll be right here.

We'll talk later okay?


	10. Chapter 10

Turns out Bro was pretty helpful. Dirk uploaded all the data that currently had to the laptop that he connected the shades to. He didn't contribute until about halfway, but then even Dirk was impressed with his ideas. After the group broke for the night, I collected Bro and returned to my room.

"So what do you think?"

You guys might be able to pull this off.

Nice pool of talent.

Strength.

Intelligence.

Skill.

Luck.

Pretty impressive for a handful of teenagers.

"Thanks."

By the way.

While I was connected.

I dropped that audio file onto your system.

It'll be there waiting for you.

Listen to it or delete it.

Up to you.

"Thanks? How'd you get to my system? You were put into Dirk's, weren't you?"

Met a guy who knows his way around the cybers.

"Ah. You connected with AR."

Dirk definitely chose a different path.

Letting his digital self evolve separately.

But I suppose when that is your only social interaction.

You really don't want to talk to yourself.

AR's coming along nicely.

He's got a good set of circuits laid out.

Wouldn't mind tracing through them one day.

"Wait. Are you… Did you hit on… Your digital self is hitting on your alternate clone's digital self. Fuck that's weird. Even for you Bro."

Do you see any other digital being to hook up with?

Besides.

As Heinlein said.

You can't help but seduce yourself.

And I still got needs.

"Ew. Dude."

Hey you got a plethora of choice babes.

That snarky blonde for one.

You get past those Freudian barbs.

And I'd bet she'd be kinky in bed.

"Rose? Oh fuck no. No no no!"

What?

She taken or something?

"She's my fucking sister for one. And for two she's your fucking daughter."

Run that by me again.

"Ectobiology shit. We are all test tube babies created by Egderp by the means of fucking Sburb technology. We are all paradox clones. I'm actually your kid too, not your little brother."

Huh.

Thought you were just some random space baby.

Riding down from the heavens on a meteoric dead pony.

"Yea, when were you gonna tell me about that?"

Dunno.

Never found the perfect ironic moment to drop it on you.

I mean.

How do you explain that to a kid.

"Dunno. Not my job. How did someone tell you?"

I was a meteor baby too?

"Shit, man. You didn't know?"

Nope.

First memory is Lil'Cal and I surviving of the orphanage.

Didn't ask too many questions.

Didn't really care beyond getting out of that hell.

That's why I took you in.

No kid deserves to go through that.

"Yea… thanks."

Don't mention it.

At least I didn't kill you.

You actually turned out decent.

Okay, so I guess that knocks out all of the blondes in the group.

"Yep, we are all related. Though I guess Roxy and Dirk could hook up and naturally create more Roses and Daves."

Okay.

What about the Lolita furry?

"Jade? Yea, not related to her."

Then why aren't you all over that?

"Dude, we are in the middle of a multi-versal apocalypse posed as some stupid game, we are currently hurtling through space and time on a meteor turned lab, and we are only fucking sixteen!"

You've gotten a kiss at least right?

"Yea. A little post mortem but whatever."

Post mortem?

"Yea, Jade sorta shot me up then kissed my corpse."

Kinky?

"We were facing Bec Noir and he redirected her machine gun to shoot at me. In order to revive me as my dream self she got her mack on with my dead body."

Machine gun huh.

"Yea, hurt like a fucking bitch. Almost as bad as after a strife with you."

Hah.

Then I bet you took it like a champ.

"Didn't even cry. Shed one tear for ironic reasons. And Jade looked pretty pitiful. She felt pretty bad about it. Nothing she could have done about it though."

You knew about it.

"Cool thing about being a Time player. We get to cheat every once in a while. Not always a good thing though."

Knowing how you're gonna die would suck.

Because then you'd have self-fulfilling prophecy shit.

"Yep. Learned my lesson on that one. No more peeking for me. Rose sees enough for all of us."

This game is so screwed up.

"Yea. But it's not like we had a choice. The Reckoning was gonna destroy the Earth whether or not we played the game. Alternate timelines proved that."

That's what happened to Dave's Jade.

"Because he didn't stop his John from going to LOWAS's denizen, John wasn't there to connect to Jade and pull her into the game. He didn't help much in the Alpha either. Vriska put him to sleep before he could prototype Jade's kernel which forced the hell hound to prototype itself which created Bec Noir."

Who in turn killed me.

So who's this Vriska bitch?

"Another troll. Too bad she's dead. She has a… misunderstanding with Rezi. Got stabbed in the back before she could become the hero she screwed up the game for. Dead even before I could get my hands on her."

Damn.

We could have had a pretty ironic vengeance scenario.

I can see it now.

My name is Dave Strider.

You killed my brother.

Prepare to die.

"Heh. My name is Dave Strider. You killed my brother. Prepare to die. Over and over and over. I wouldn't even need to fight her. Just drive her mad."

Nice touch.

I always appreciated the idea of to the pain though.

Simple and elegant.

Yet covers all the bases for a good retaliation.

"Eh. She's probably take it the wrong way. Trolls have a fucked up sense of romance. They have something called kismesissitude. It basically sums up to hate sex. She'd think I was waxing black for her."

Trolls are fucking weird.

"I've been living with them for over three years now and I still don't get them." I am about to go on to enumerate all the ways that trolls are fucking weird for him, but a yawn interrupts.

Hey.

Before you fall asleep on me.

Go to bed.

I nod in agreement. There was more training tomorrow.

I'll be right here.

We'll talk later okay?


	11. Chapter 11

The next two days felt like all the rest. A combination of training, music, planning, and talking. It was nice to be able to just talk with Bro. We kept the irony down to a minimum since we couldn't include any of the posturing or facial expressions behind our words. Sarcasm was still widely employed, but it was nice to have such open conversation. We always ended up talking until exhaustion caught up to me but we would basically just continue where we left off the next morning. We covered a range of topics, life before the game, Bro's life before me, events in the game, the game mechanics, the trolls, what could happen in the future, anything, everything. It was good. Even John commented that I was looking better and even claimed that he saw a smile. I denied anything of the sort but if I was being honest, it could have happened. I feel a little bit more normal now that I had Bro, even if it had to happen through the shades. He continued to participate in the tactical meetings and I even paid attention. We had a fairly strong strategy with a lot of contingencies thought out and planned for. The plan was nearly perfect which means that there was no way for it to succeed.

The day of the assault arrives like any other. We wouldn't start until the afternoon. So I had time to shower after I wake up, grab Bro's shades, and then head to the cafeteria while continuing the conversation I had with Bro.

"The nakodiles had me in the pot and started chopping vegetables up to the water. That's what got me. The fucking onions. They are my demise. I couldn't help the tears that rolled down my cheeks to flavor the water. I was my own seasoning. Terezi was having a field day with all of this."

Your consorts are screwed up.

Aren't they supposed to worship you?

Of course you get the broken ones.

"I know right? At least they knew who I was. John's consorts didn't believe him until he slapped them all upside the head with his windy thing. We need to come up with a better name for that."

"But I like windy thing! It's a cool, descriptive name." John interrupts. I am slightly startled that I had already arrived at the cafeteria, but I guess the tray of food and coffee in my hands should have been a good sign. Briefly I wonder how long I've been here, appearing to talk to myself.

"No John. It's not a cool name. Descriptive, yes. Cool, no. Nice try though."

It's better than Fart Buster.

At the image of Bro saying that deadpan with his signature poker face, I actually laugh out loud.

"What? What did he say? Dave! Stop laughing at me!" John swats my arm, but I am still trying to catch my breath.

"It's nothing, John. Don't worry about it," I manage.

"Aww, you Striders always make fun of me."

"Don't mind them, John." Rose looked up from her spot at the table. "They are just exploring a new aspect of the Oedipus/Electra complex."

* * *

"I can't believe I haven't shown you. It's an utter travesty that it's escaped my mind this long. We worked on it over the three years. It was started by this carapace guy who became the Mayor and then it just grew from there. But anyways, welcome to Can Town!" I announce with a sweep of my arm as I enter the room. The project really had grown. It took up actually an entire lab. I give Bro the grand tour, sweeping through the neighborhoods and industrial areas depicted by various items and chalk drawings. I nearly complete the full circle when I see something I don't recognize.

Dude.

I thought you said you were over me.

I mean.

I don't mind the memorial.

But this is a little extravagant.

Like not even ironically so.

"It's not my drawing. Rezi must have added this... Huh. Wonder why she didn't come get me to work on this." I get a nagging sensation at the back of my head as I look at the new drawing. It's me in one of those 'trickster' designs that Roxy shared with us but instead of my usual aviators or even the 'trickster' heart shades, I'm wearing an exaggerated pair of Bro's shades.

You and the blind troll chick are close?

"Rezi? Yea. She helped me in LOHAC. She's got a wicked sense of cool and makes terrible drawings."

Sounds like your kind of girl.

"Minus the lack of concern with personal space and having to slobber over everything to see."

How'd you survive that for three years?

"I threw Karkat in the way. I'm not the only one with delicious cherry red blood."

That would have been amusing to have seen.

"Actually I'm kinda surprised I haven't had to fend her off..."

* * *

"Hey Karkles."

"Oh my gog, you have had all fucking week to fucking crawl up my waste chute and bother the fuck out of me, but no, you grub fucking idiot have to chose now. Less than two fucking hours before we go on our fucking suicide mission against an army of fucking culling drones. No. Whatever the loving grubfuck you want, no. Figure it out with your fucking brother and leave me the fuck alone."

"Jegus, Karkles. I actually just wanted to know if you've seen Rezi recently. I've been missing my usually scheduled cool kid worship."

I get a glower that might have made me cringe and cower if I happened to be a lesser man. "Fuck you, Dave. Just fuck you."

* * *

"Rezi, there you are. Been looking for you."

"Oh. Hey, Dave."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Just Dave? Where is my slobber filled cook kid greeting?"

"I'd know that cherry scent anywhere. It's just a little sharper than usual."

"Sharper?"

"Spikey. Not your usual smooth curvy self. I might cut my tongue on you."

Heh.

She called you curvy.

I ignored him. "That's funny coming from a girl who is built like a bundle of x-acto knives and smiles with way too many sharp as fuck teeth. Either your tongue is made of kevlar or it already should be shredded to ribbons."

"Missing the point, Dave. Where are your shades?"

"Huh? Oh, you mean the aviators. They are in my room."

* * *

At the designated time, we are all gathered on the roof. Everyone has their weapons out in their respective groups as we planned during the week.

It's about showtime kid.

Good luck.

Kick ass.

Follow the plan.

"Sir, yes sir."

Smart ass.

I'll be right here.

We'll talk later okay?


	12. Chapter 12

I am honestly surprised. Things are actually going to plan and things are going well. The room that Jade transported us to was empty. Roxy successfully shielded us until Dirk and AR shut down all sensors and alarms. It only took Rose and Terezi about a minute to See our path through the ship. They gave us a seventy-five percent clearance and ninety percent stability. Those are good odds.

Karkat and I take the lead, breaking down the doors and taking out any drones that happen to be in the next room. Roxy keeps us cloaked as much as possible with Dirk as her personal protector. Jake gives us long range cover fire from his position covering Jane, our field medic. Kanaya is paired with Terezi and John with Rose as they keep us updated to any changes to our path. Jade keeps us aware of our location in the ship with her god-tier precision.

We tear a swath of destruction through the belly of the red ship. Bro chimes in with suggestions and compliments.

That panel over there.

Looks important.

It probably be good to destroy.

Nice headshot.

Now take out two at a time.

That's one way to do that.

That door is too thick to take out.

AR could probably open it.

You're pretty good at this time shit.

Use the void to flank this group.

Sweet moves dude.

"This next room has active drones. Be careful," Rose calls out.

"Something doesn't smell right," Terezi chimes in.

"Nothing we can't handle, guys. I'm not even breaking a sweat. We are gods at assaulting the castle. Though honestly I'm expecting a toadstool to be sitting at the end of the level. The princess is in another castle," I mimic in a falsetto.

"She's not a princess, you fucking moron. She's the Empress," Karkat grumbles at me as we brace on either side of the door.

"Are you telling me that you didn't have a Troll Mario on Alternia?"

"We did, you culturally insensitive prick. He never says anything like that though."

"He didn't say it. Those fucking toadstools did. Hey, Big Bad Wolf, blow this door down!"

Karkat's inane reply was drowned out by John whipping up enough wind to blast the doors off their hinges. Karkat and I duck through the doorway ready to take out the drones. Our momentum dies out about half way through the room as we realize it's empty. I turn back to the door.

"Guys? Something's wrong with your Sight. And I'm not referring to your synthesia, Rezi."

"UP!" the Seers yell together, at the same time I see two words on the shades.

Look up.

My head snaps up and I see a large red body falling towards us. I don't have time to drop my turntables out of inventory before the impact.

I’m knocked to the floor, pinned briefly by the heavy weight. It is lifted off briefly by a gust of wind and I roll to my feet. I look around and catch glimpses of all the fighters turning robots into scraps. Everything is brighter though and my head hurts. The room is swiftly becoming a mess of red paint, sparking wires, and drifting smoke. I am still a bit disoriented as I hear, or rather feel, a crack from my heel as I step back out of the way.

My heart drops out of my chest as I fall to my knees. But I already know I am too late to salvage what happened.

My hands are shaking as I scoop up the shards of plastic. One triangle of the lens is still whole but the other half is completely shattered. The frames are also broken; the wires barely holding the pieces together. I can't breathe as I cradle the shades, as I cradle what was left of Bro. I scream as I read the last words slowly crawl across the remainder of the screen.

I'll be

right here

We'll talk

later okay ?


	13. Chapter 13

The Batter Witch is dead. We defeated her. Still not sure how that happened and I was fucking there.

Huh.

That sounds familiar.

True nonetheless.

John says I went a little crazy. I think he's understating it. I'm pretty sure I went batshit. Like insane juggalo bad. Actually I think I probably made Gamzee look like innocent sunshine and butterflies. I don't remember much.

Doesn't matter really.

We're back on the ship licking our wounds and fucking exhausted again.

Two bosses down.

Only the invincible one left...

I found the files.

They were conveniently tucked away in a folder labeled porn.

He lied.

There was no porn in there.

Just two files.

One audio.

One text.

I'll look at them later.

Soon.

But later.

Until then.

I'll be right here.

We'll talk later, okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: First off, I do not own Homestuck or it's characters. I wish I did. Also, if Andrew Hussie ever reads this or somehow uses this idea in Homestuck, I will probably explode from happiness.
> 
> Second, I realized halfway through that I switched from the ship to the meteor. Please assume that Jade ran the ship into the meteor instead of parking it nicely.
> 
> Besides that, this story was written with respect to the August hiatus. I fell into the trap of producing material while being starved of updates. I really wanted to just throw this idea out there because I hadn't seen enough Bro mimicking Dirk, especially with respect to his shades, and I hadn't seen this theme before (Bro with an AR/AI). But just throwing a head cannon out there didn't seem like enough, hence this story.
> 
> I love all of the Striders, all of them. I unfortunately tend to torture my main characters. This goes along with the idea though that Striders always suffer. This story doesn't change that fact.
> 
> I know that I have trouble writing Dave. I don't write in character very well. My voice as a writer is very strong. I tried though. If you have any recommendations on how to write certain characters better, please let me know. Dave especially. I hope I got my point across anyways and wrote a story that at least some of you enjoyed. I'll be writing more so if you did enjoy it and would like more, feel free to follow me here on AO3 or on tumblr at aeacustero


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